


Flower Power

by Cyber_God



Series: Overflowing [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Flowers, Grinding, Hal is confused, M/M, Pollen, Sex Pollen, dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-31 07:09:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21442240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyber_God/pseuds/Cyber_God
Summary: She said not to inhale the pollen for a reason.
Relationships: Auto-Responder | Lil Hal/Dirk Strider
Series: Overflowing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738885
Comments: 6
Kudos: 103
Collections: Homestuck Renaissance Kinkmeme





	Flower Power

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [petasos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petasos/pseuds/petasos) in the [HRKinkmeme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HRKinkmeme) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Dirk gets hit with aphrodisiacs and Hal is obviously immune, but very willing to help out a friend/rival/whatever the fuck you consider Dirk. So maybe it’s like, from one of Jade’s science experiments, or something on Jake’s island, or some weird troll plant….. IDK but you can go buck wild with it. Have a fucking great time m’dude.

It’s been mounting, pitching, increasing irritation since he was slapped facefirst with Jade’s mission -- find a plant, take a picture, try not to cuss Jade or Jake out that it’s _very much in their vicinity_ to do the task instead, they’ve actually _explored jungles before_, it’s such a goddamn colossal waste of time scouring a whole forest for a --

He pulls up the holo-screen again. The flower -- by closest resemblance -- looks more like a neon-purple heart, its petals coated in a soft dusting of blue pollen. Contrasting its blue hues, however, is the rather crudely-applied caption --

DO NOT INHALE OR INGEST THE POLLEN/NECTAR!!!

in garish red letters below. 

It’s the sole reason why Dirk’s even bothering with a mask -- it’s uncomfortable as hell, clamped tight to his face like a claw, and what really gnaws at his annoyance is a maskless Hal following right behind him.

“You sure your mask’s on tight?”

“_Yes_,” Dirk snaps back. Sometimes he regrets even making the AI. The soft, robotic hum of Hal’s limbs is barely audible over his footsteps. The asshole got upgraded with a full body made by that sweaty fuck of a troll, all polished chassis and fluid limbs, and he’s bereft of a mask the same reason Dirk isn’t: the pollen’s untouchable on him.

Silence trails after the two. Dirk pushes past a thick overhang of bright pink vines desperate to tear at his chin and pauses.

“Bingo.” 

It’s a small clearing of moss and other bizarre shrubbery, a bush of the culprit flowers in the smack-center. Their little purple hearts are smaller than Dirk’s expectations, able to easily fit into his hand.

Hal takes a sweeping glance over the clearing before swinging off his backpack and setting it on the grass. “Jade wants a sample of the stem, the leaves and the root,” he reminds Dirk, pulling out some glass jars.

“Thanks, genius.” Dirk yanks his shears out of a pocket in his vest and crouches down by the flower. It’s mesmerizing, the way light glitters at its edges and its pollen shining like gemstones, the way it sways in the air even without a breeze. Everything on this troll planet, he had come to learn, is a mix of wonder and absurdity. 

“Dirk, can you hurry the -- “

“I’m on it, jeez.” He pulls on a set of thick gloves and gently grips the closest flower pod’s stem -- or tries to, before it suddenly coils around his hand like an agitated viper, thorns dragging along into the skin --

“AHHHH!”

It’s a desperate mess of limbs and flailing around; the stem tightens like a noose, and out of pure reflex Dirk yanks his mask off, trying to suck in more air, and then the flower pod sways and it’s jettisoning out bright blue syrupy fluid, the same color as the pollen, and it’s spraying all over his face -- it’s an alien concoction over his face, made out of god-knows-what -- “

“Get it off GET IT OFF what the hell is it going to do -- “

“Dirk, calm the hell down,” Hal spits out, trying to restrain the human’s motions to absolutely no avail. Dirk’s in full-out panic mode -- he’s repeatedly smacking at his own face, trying to wipe off the nectar, his feet jerking around like a marionette --

His mask slips off his head as he tumbles face-first into a mass of flowers and vines, and a cloud of blue pollen erupts in the air, coating his tongue and throat.

“Crap,” he gags out, barely able to speak or breathe. It’s like substance clogging up each breathing passageway. “Crap, Hal, I can’t -- “

A firm robotic hand grabs him by his shirt and hauls him up, the fabric tearing slightly. Hal is relentlessly dragging him to the tree line, away from the flowers, and gently props him against a trunk. 

“Breathe,” the android commands, patting at his face roughly. “Breathe, dude. Did you inhale the pollen?”

Dirk’s dimly aware of something wet and cool wiping over his face, clearing away the nectar’s stickiness. He nods jerkily. 

“Okay, where’d it -- “

“It’s all up in my mouth,” and then there’s a bottle of water being shoved into his lips, warm liquid spilling down his throat, smoothing out the linings of flesh.

It takes some time before he manages to catch his breath. His heart’s still beating frantically -- much to his confusion -- but his breathing steadies out into something manageable.

“It doesn’t appear to be toxic,” Hal notes, watching Dirk chug down the water. His blank eyes are scanning over the human’s frame, minutely aware of how the muscles still twitch, how a trickle of sweat oozes down his neck, how a slow, gradual flush pulses up into Dirk’s face.

“Y-Yeah. Hopefully.”

It’s like the temperature’s been jacked up by a hundred degrees; suddenly, all Dirk can feel is how sticky his clothes are, how his skin seems to boil and roll under the fabric, this intense heat filling up his innards like molten wax. He tries swallowing more water to cool himself down, but it just amplifies the sensation -- his stomach is pitching like a ship in a storm, warmth flooding to his groin -- 

Without a second thought he’s tearing out of his vests, his wifebeater, trying to relieve the awful -- amazing -- heat, and it’s all being redirected to his -- to his --

“Dirk, what the heck, are you okay?” Through a growing haze Dirk thinks he detects concern in the android’s voice, but then his attention gets focused onto the throbbing between his legs. When the hell did his cock get so hard? It was erect to the point of pain, brushing against the jeans’ denim, and the mere friction made him shudder. Almost mindlessly he shucked off his pants, barely suppressing a moan when his fingers brushed the front of his boxers.

“Shit,” Dirk whimpers, his mind still trying to piece together what the hell was happening. 

“It’s an aphrodisiac,” Hal bites out, surprise faint but discernible on his face. “Dude, out of one to ten, how horny are -- “

A soft whine escapes Dirk’s throat -- his hips thrust into his palm, all nerves directed to his crotch, and he can’t stop -- can’t stop making the noise, can’t stop touching himself through his underwear, and the thought of Hal watching him -- watching him unravel, his eyes sinking into their hollows, his face flooded with intense red --

Hal doesn’t turn away from the sight. There’s a nagging curiosity in his circuits, buried somewhere where he’ll later deny with all his metal heart, that wants to see the scene unfold to its inevitable outcome. He observes Dirk palming himself more frantically, motions rapid and jerkish, until -- 

“Nnngh...Hal…”

And his name jolts through the android’s aural processors. He’s aware he’s analyzing every single detail of Strider’s movements, lapping it up as greedily as a dying dog, and seeing his creator driven to such desperation -- begging him, out of all people, for attention.

“What do you need?” the android asks, pitching his voice as low and soft as possible.

Dirk’s response is telling and punctual; he grabs the robot’s hand and melds it to his crotch, not even bothering with formality.

Taking the cue, Hal gently grinds down his palm, unable to look away from Dirk’s desperate expression. 

Dirk’s breath hitches -- he bites his lip and whines again, unable to stop himself -- 

“M-more -- Hal, please -- I’m so hot -- I _want_ ~” 

It’s like all his thought processes have burnt out to a fuse. Hal removes his hand, making Dirk moan louder in protest. In one swift motion he tugs off the human’s boxers and pulls his creator forward, Dirk straddling Hal’s lap as the android carefully lies down among the moss.

“Hey, shhhh, I’m not leaving.” the AI whispers, for a moment overcome with an emotion he can’t name, unable to tear his gaze away from how pleading Dirk’s expression is, how his lips are parted and his eyes limpid like a fresh pool. Instead of speaking, he pulls Dirk closer, his arms solid and heavy around the former’s ribs.

Dirk rests his head against Hal’s robotic chest, listening to the whirr of fans and the bubble of cooling fluids. Even in the throes of the aphrodisiac he finds the android’s rhythms comforting, like an old radio tune played in the dead of night -- 

Until Hal shifts slightly, pressing a thigh between Dirk’s legs, grinding up a bit to provide friction. Dirk cries out at the sudden burst of pleasure, hands gripping Hal’s shirt and squeezing his eyes shut. His own hips rock down to meet Hal’s body, needily rutting against the thigh in lusty, electric haze.

Hal doesn’t say anything -- _can’t_ say anything, not when Dirk’s ego and arrogance and contempt are shattered into animalistic desire, humping away at his leg like a troll in heat. Something like content stirs in his wires as he experimentally thrusts his hips upward, hearing Dirk gasp and shiver above him. He can detect Dirk’s blush blazing down to his collarbone, how his hands shake with effort, how little, panicked gasps escaped from his lips -- 

It doesn’t take much longer before Dirk’s coming. His mouth parts in a silent gasp as he spilled hot white over his leg and onto Hal’s body, his body trembling from his orgasm, even as broken pleas continue to tumble out of his lips. 

Immediately he falls limp against the android, breath misting over the chassis plates. His eyes remain closed as he tries to breathe. 

It’s five minutes later when Hal realizes Dirk’s passed out like a light, softly snoring into his neck. 

With a gentleness still unfamiliar to him, Hal rolls Dirk off of him and onto the soft moss floor of the clearing. Clothes -- still slick with sweat and other fluids -- are slipped back on, the fallen shears and samples safely tucked away into the bag. For a moment the robot simply listens to the wind skimming across the grass, watching his creator’s chest rise and fall.

It feels like eternity before he picks up the sleeping human, his gears thrumming lowly as he situates the body in his arms. Mentally he jots down the coordinates of the clearing, his mind still lost somewhere else, and carries Dirk out of the forest and back towards their small pocket of civilization.

**Author's Note:**

> Some good ol' fun with robo Hal
> 
> Edited and betaed: CleanRunner


End file.
